Mutinies and Revenge
by Krivoklatsko
Summary: Ansem the Wise has everything he could hope for: a kingdom that looks up to him, a small family that he can love, a band of loyal students, and a lovely view of a meteor shower.
1. Chapter 1

**I figured that since everyone likes Slowly Rotting Hearts so much, should stop working on it and start an entirely new story. It seemed like the logical thing to do at the time.**

* * *

Xehanort sat and set one of his legs horizontally over the other. The shadows under the castle that Ansem had found were dangerous. There was no doubt about it now that a body was bleeding all over the laboratory. But if Ansem found that out for himself, he would forbid any further research into them. So what to do?

"Is something wrong, young Xehanort?"

Xehanort turned his head just enough to acknowledge Ansem's presence without actually looking at him. He grunted quietly as a response while he thought up a real answer. He hadn't planned on encountering anyone in the library, especially not Ansem, the one person he was trying to hide a secret from at the moment. Xehanort had only come here to get his thoughts organized as quickly as possible on his way to stealing a body bag.

"I've been having a walk about the city..." Ansem began his jolly report of how happy everyone was in Radiant Gardens while Xehanort continued to stare into space. He stopped caring about the people of the city long before he had met any of them.

"...The income disparity is almost non-existent as well. Can you imagine it? Pride can be the fall of a man, but I can not help but be honored to have been a part of this kingdom: one in which we are all equal."

Xehanort nodded his head absentmindedly in agreement. He had his thoughts organized now. When the fool was finished talking Xehanort would slip back to the laboratory, where everyone else was waiting with a corpse that needed to be snuck out of the castle. And the shadow… it would have to be destroyed.

"…But then something strange happened."

Xehanort blinked and realized that Ansem was now facing him. The library around them came into focus as well. "What was it?"

"Do you recall the meteor showers that brought that strange material?"

_No. I forgot. What do you think?_

"Of course."

"The shadows that appeared under the castle as well?"

Xehanort nodded. "Yes."

"I saw one of them outside. Or… I saw something." Ansem raised a hand to his chin and braced his elbow on his other arm. "Hmm. I don't really know what I saw."

Xehanort sighed internally.

"It was large, like a man, but wispy and agile like a cat, leaving only a brief vision of itself to play on your mind before it disappeared into another shadow, making you think it had never been there at all."

Xehanort was very mildly intrigued.

Ansem turned to him suddenly. "What do you think it was, Xehanort?"

"Shadows play tricks on the mind."

"Yes. Yes they do, I suppose."

Xehanort stood from his chair and bowed slightly. "I'm sorry to leave so quickly but I was actually taking a short break from the laboratory, Master Ansem. If you don't mind…"

Ansem nodded and looked at a particular book with interest. "Of course."

Xehanort turned and walked at what felt like an agonizingly slow pace towards the door.

"Xehanort."

He stopped. Ansem's tone was more commanding than before.

"Yes, Master?"

Ansem turned away from the book and eyed Xehanort the same way.

"I saw what you've been doing in the laboratory."

Xehanort swallowed hard and didn't reply.

"I'm impressed. Your Theory on Adaptive Resonance shows promise for the field of Agroharmonics."

The field of Agroharmonics was dated, useless, and utterly stupid; as was Adaptive Resonance, which only theorized that shaking an object long enough made it shake the same way. It was absolute child's play that Xehanort had doodled on a whiteboard out of boredom several years ago, but Xehanort held his tongue and nodded. "Thank you, Master."

"You should look into it further."

"I will." _Right after I'm finished telling everyone what a damned fool you are._

Xehanort turned and walked out of the library without even betraying a sigh of relief.

He waited until he was sure Ansem wouldn't follow him again and then broke into a sprint.

* * *

"Good afternoon, Princess."

An elegant hand waved in response to the hailing of several passersby. Ansem's daughter, Princess Glee, did not enjoy fans as much as they enjoyed her. In fact, having everyone stare at you every time you walked outside became almost creepy at some times. But as her daily walk around the kingdom brought her back to the castle, she met an interesting person that she didn't soon plan to discard as a mere fan. She was inside the castle, just having entered the labyrinthine corridors that she was so terrible at navigating, when a man about her age in a white lab coat came running from outside. His arms were busy with a black bag about his size that was absolutely empty.

"Excuse me?"

He slowed to a fast walk as he came closer and looked at her impatiently.

"Aren't you… one of those people my father keeps talking about?"

Xehanort stopped next to her.

"That depends on who your father talks about." He said it slowly, trying to pick his words while he stared at her as if she had something on her face. She brushed a hand across her cheek to check.

"Oh. He says he has all of these students who wear lab coats, and he answers their questions, and he teaches them, or learns from them or something… I don't really pay attention to him very often when he talks like that, but he thinks very fondly of you all."

Xehanort blinked at her again and put the bag behind his back. She could see, now that it was closer, that its zipper extended along its entire mass lengthwise.

"I… don't actually go to a local school. So, I'm sorry, but I'm not a student of your father's. I'm a student of Ansem the Wise."

She nodded. "That's what I meant."

He glared at her with the same bizarre look as before, then shook his head free of her and skipped past her into the corridor before she could elaborate. She watched him go, and then realized with a start that he had absolutely no idea who she was. She ran after him, determined not to lose her one chance at having a normal friend.

* * *

Ienzo wrinkled his nose in frustration and brushed some hair out of his face as he tried feverishly to read through all the papers he was holding. Every shred of evidence that this experiment had taken place had to be gathered before anyone -especially Ansem- but anyone nonetheless, stumbled into the laboratory and found the corpse that Aeleus and Dilan were dealing with. Or the shadow…

Ienzo glanced away from the printouts in his hand long enough to glare at the shadowy figure that had been caged in the corner. It was staring at him. He looked back to the papers in front of him and spotted some incriminating computer-use time codes. He stuffed them into the folder he was gathering and handed it to Even.

Even was gathering the folders into unmarked bins and loading them onto a cart that they would have to dash to somewhere safe. While he got the bin he muttered under his breath, "What could be taking him so long?"

A knock came to the door and everyone's wide-eyed glares were pulled to it. All motion stopped entirely. They stared at the door in complete silence, and again the knock came, this time with Xehanort's voice.

"If I was Ansem I wouldn't have knocked in the first place!"

Ienzo rushed to the door and let in an out-of-breath Xehanort, body bag in tow. It was passed to Aeleus, who nodded silently and set to work stuffing the thrashed corpse into it while Dilan mopped up the blood.

Xehanort was motioning them to move faster while he gasped for breath.

"Hurry. I was followed."

They all doubled their pace. Ienzo was grabbing any piece of paper that look even remotely relevant to the experiment without double-checking. Xehanort smiled inwardly when he saw the way they were moving. There was a good chance they'd get away with this now.

Aeleus jumped back suddenly, knocking over a small equipment table in the process. Everyone looked at him, and then followed his stare to the corpse. At first, nothing seemed to be amiss. But then, a spurt of body fluids came from its chest, followed by a shadowy claw. The claw dug around itself, creating more gore until it became an arm, and then a torso, and finally another shadow. They stared in awe, stunned, while its antennae flinched and writhed about itself.

"Kill it."

Aeleus looked at Xehanort unsurely. "We could cage it."

"Ansem's a fool, but he can count. Kill it Aeleus."

Every one of Ansem's students was chosen because he favored them somehow. Xehanort was an adept leader, Even knew his way around a laboratory, Dilan had a way of gauging weather, and Aeleus was built like Goliath.

He made a fist and brought down his godlike weight on the creature. It was crushed, and vanished in wisps of evanescent smoke. They finished up quickly and all made for the door, stopping only briefly for Xehanort to pull a small radio out of one of his lab coat pocket and put it in his ear.

* * *

Specialist Braig leaned over the parapet of Ansem's castle and panned a courtyard with his binoculars. No intruders. What a surprise. He turned to the other side of the parapet and scanned again, nothing. Wait.

He lifted the binoculars to his eyes and watched as Xehanort came running across it with a bag and banged on the door to a building that was isolated in the courtyard: a laboratory. Ienzo let him in and Braig lowered his binoculars.

"You are so getting caught, dude."

He shook his head and changed the frequency of the radio that was plugged into his ear to the one that Xehanort had set aside for them. Braig waited for a moment, and busied himself by patting the sniper rifle on his back. He stopped when a woman came bursting into the courtyard and ran towards the laboratory as fast as she could, which wasn't fast at all due to her dress. Braig's radio was brought to life by Xehanort's voice.

"_Can you hear me?"_

"Hola, dude."

"_Is the courtyard clear?"_

"No, dude. You were followed."

"_How close is she?"_

The woman reached the door and knocked on it while she collected herself.

"Hello? Hello! Is anyone in there?"

Braig chuckled.

"_Can you find a way to distract her?"_

"I could probably get a shot off from here, but you'd be carrying another body."

Braig ignored Xehanort's immediate negations of the thought and took the rifle off of its strap. He held it out on his arm, having the practiced stillness of a marksman, and took a closer look at the woman through his scope.

"Oh, man."

"_What is it?"_

"That's Princess Catherine Gleie, dude."

"_Who?"_

"The daughter of Master Ansem."

Braig lowered his rifle while Catherine continued banging away on the door.

"_Ansem's what?!"_

"His daughter."

Braig was alarmed then, as Catherine had stopped pounding and taken a step away from the door.

"_What's going on?"_

Braig raised his rifle again to watch her through the scope. After so many hours of having it on him, it felt more like an extension of his body than a weapon. Needless to say, the safety implications of his actions were lost on him.

"She's digging in a pocket on her hip. I can't see it tho- wait. She's got something."

Catherine pulled the object out of her pocket and stepped up to the door again.

"_What is it?"_

"It's metal, dude. I can't see it."

"_Well what's she doing with it?"_

The princess had her ear to the door, her eyes keen.

"She's listening to you, dude."

Catherine pulled her head away from the door and frowned at it.

"Stand by. It looks like she's going to give up."

* * *

Xehanort held his breath. Everyone else in the room was frozen in place, glaring wide-eyed at him and waiting for instructions. The heartless in the corner was having some kind of seizure, its antennas trying to pull its head through the cage to get through the door, creating a small racket in the process. Dilan wiped some sweat off his brow and set the mop he was holding in its bucket. He didn't realize until then how hot it was getting in the laboratory.

"Well what's she doing?"

Xehanort had his hand on the communication bead in his ear.

A look of hope crossed his face and everyone's emotions followed with him. Suddenly, they could all here Braig's voice yelling over the earpiece and Xehanort lunged for the door just in time to grab the handle as a key turned in the lock. The door jumped an inch as Catherine tried to open it from the outside. Everyone was breathing hard now, on the verge of panic. If anyone found out about this project, they would be finished. Catherine tried to pull the door open again and grunted with the effort. The shadow in the cage went mad and began swiping at the bars with its claws.

"Open the door or else!"

No one moved, except for Xehanort, who was struggling to keep the door shut and thanking whatever greater power there was that it wasn't an automatic door.

"I'm warning you! Open this door by the authority of Ansem The Wise or suffer the consequences!"

Her voice was too cute to properly convey any authority, and Xehanort wasn't about to let anyone in for all the munny in the kingdom.

"Fine!"

Xehanort crumpled into a ball and released the handle as a lightning spell rippled through the metal door. It swung open to reveal a triumphant looking woman in a mid-day dress. Her expression quickly turned to shock at the image of the bloody corpse, then horror at the sight of the shadow, which intensified its efforts at the sight of her. Her hand moved to her mouth and she took a step back. Even and Ienzo raised their hands in front of themselves.

"D-don't, don't say anything."

She shook her head and staggered back several steps as Xehanort got back on his feet in front of her.

A small murmur came over the bead in his ear and his hand rushed to it.

"Don't."

He looked Catherine in the eyes with a sense of foreboding.

"You're Master Ansem's daughter?"

She nodded behind her hand. Her eyes were horrified.

"And you're going to tell your father about this?"

Her eyes became worried.

"Please," Xehanort opened his palms to show that he was not trying to be menacing.

"Don't be afraid to answer."

She nodded her head vigorously.

"Well then. There's no point waiting."

Slowly, her hand lowered from her face. She took several more steps backward and then turned around and ran as fast as her feet could carry her.

Ienzo was at Xehanort's side in an instant.

"You're letting her go?"

Aeleus boomed uncharacteristically, "She'll give us away!"

Xehanort faced them all and removed the radio from his ear.

"I know. But killing his daughter is something we're far less likely to get away with. We'll have to find another way to continue our research."

They were silent for a long time. The only thing to do now would be to wait for Ansem to arrive and scold them like children.

Ienzo set down the papers he had been mid-sorting in defeat and said, "He never mentioned a daughter."

Nobody responded, and he peered up from his sullen floor-glare to stare at them all as if they had missed something obvious. "Why?"

* * *

**Why did I decide Ansem should have a daughter? Because rich people get laid, and Ansem needs to have something push him to the edge if we want to believe that he gets consumed by revenge to the point of blowing himself up.**

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Ansem the Wise was rarely at a loss for what to do. He had even fancied himself once that he might be as wise as the rulers he had heard of before him, perhaps even equaling Solomon, whose wisdom was from the light itself. But instead of living up to the myth of himself, Ansem was now looking on his students with a new light, and reconsidering his trust in them.

"He was a volunteer, master."

He volunteered to be part of a vaguely defined experiment that would 'benefit the kingdom', but Ansem didn't need to know that.

Ansem looked at Xehanort briefly, but turned away in disgust.

"This is inexcusable."

They all flinched at the tone in his voice except for Xehanort. Xehanort was the brave one, the leader. He always looked out for the others and kept them in line. Or at least he was supposed to.

Ansem turned his head just enough to address them without doing them the honor of actually looking at them.

"And then to attempt to sneak this under my nose… in my own castle!"

He faced the wall in front of him. It was still stained with blood.

"You understand that the compensation for this man's life will be coming directly from your work. No amount of money can fill the space he has left in his family."

"He was a drifter, sir."

It was Xehanort who did all of the talking. None of the other students spoke for themselves at all. They simply followed his command and relied on his words rather than thinking individually. Ansem felt put out by their lack of development, but he checked his rage. It was, after all, the reason that he had selected Xehanort to be a pupil of his.

Ienzo nudged Xehanort with his elbow and nodded at Ansem. He wasn't nearly stupid enough to vocalize his own questions the way Xehanort did. He would get answers without ever being conspicuous.

"Master. If I may?"

Ansem kept his gaze locked on the splotch of blood marring the corner of the laboratory.

"What is it, Xehanort?"

"You… have a daughter?"

Ansem turned and faced them squarely.

"Yes, and?"

"If… she wasn't the daughter of… the late Queen…"

Everyone next to him feigned surprise at his boldness. It was the question on all of their minds.

"She is my daughter in the sense that you are all my sons."

Xehanort nodded. "Of course, master." He bowed his head slightly, but his thoughts were far from humble. "And her sir name? Gleie-"

"A man is dead, Xehanort! Focus!"

Everyone was silent, and the air was oppressively tense.

"In my castle, of all places!"

"Master, it's in the past. We can make sure…"

Xehanort bit his tongue and cursed himself internally.

Ansem relaxed slightly at that. "Exactly. We can make sure it never happens again. That is why we must continue the research."

Everyone suppressed a smile and a collective sigh. That was all they needed to hear.

* * *

Princess Gleie was still recovering from the shock of having her first ever brush with death. The horrified face of the corpse with no chest was burned onto her retina for life, scarred into her memory.

"Princess."

She was shaking, despite the many efforts of her attendants to calm her.

"Princess, please. I need you to look at the flashlight."

"I-I-I… n-no."

The light blinded her in one eye for a moment and she blinked away from it.

"Please. No!"

"That's enough."

A third voice intervened and pushed away the man with the flashlight.

"She said she's fine, so she's fine. It's just a combat high, adrenalin withdrawal. She needs some comfort."

"You're not qualified to- ugh."

Catherine's bodyguard pushed the medic out of her chamber door and closed it quickly. He took a moment to compose himself before facing the princess again.

"Are you sure you're alright Cathy?"

"I'll be fine."

The guard crouched down to her eye level as she was seated in a chair.

"Cathy."

She was hugging her legs, but looked at him over her knees.

"Yes?"

"Cathy, I have been your personal bodyguard for five years now. No matter what our relationship becomes, it is still my duty to make sure you are OK."

She nodded shakily.

"I don't want to bother you with too many questions, but I have to know that you are safe so I just have one for you. Is that alright?"

Princess Gleie nodded again.

"Is there anything that you want to tell me? Anything at all that you want to talk about?"

Her face turned red under her eyes and her lower lip started to quiver.

"H-he, he looked… he looked at me."

She broke into tears then, and lost all of the dignity she had left over from the day.

"D-di-did you… have you ever-?"

The guard wrapped his arms around her and shushed her tears away softly.

"Cathy. You are a beautiful, young princess with the whole world ahead of you. By the time death visits your door, I guarantee you that you will be so bored that the first thing you'll ask him is, 'what took you so long?'"

She sniffled and said, "really?"

He nodded, rubbing his cheek against hers. "I promise you."

She unfurled her legs slowly and he released her, letting her slowly move herself onto her bed and watching as she crawled under the covers. He stood and waited, but she simply lay in her bed staring at him.

"I should go."

She wiped a tear away from her eye with an unsteady hand and nodded.

"Is there anything you need?"

Princess Gleie shook her head. The guard nodded solemnly as a goodbye and turned to the door handle.

"Wait!"

He stopped and turned his head to her.

"Yes?"

"Thank you. Thank you, Johnny."

Johnny nodded, then opened the door and took his position outside before closing it.

* * *

High above the Princess' chamber, and on almost the opposite side of the castle, Specialist Braig peeled his eye away from his rifle scope and checked his watch.

"Ten minutes this time, dude. You're gonna get caught if you keep this up, and it is going to be ugly when you do." Johnny pressed a hand to a small bead in his ear.

"Glad to know you've got my back, buddy."

* * *

**This is turning into a soap opera, isn't it?**


	3. Chapter 3

The setting sun put all of the day's events to rest at its usual time, leaving Ansem to fume in his bed, alone. Xehanort was not meant to have known about Catherine. None of them were. It couldn't be kept a secret forever, though. Everything comes to an end eventually. Ansem picked an ornate snuffer off of his nightstand and doused his candle with it. The sound of the wind in the halls of the castle lulled him to sleep.

* * *

"Are your people happy, oh mighty king?"

Ansem blinked, and then rubbed his eyes.

"Excuse me?"

"Do you rule in their favor?"

Ansem realized that he was standing on his feet now, robed as a casual citizen would be.

"I…"

His voice faltered. He was inclined to answer yes, but he startled suddenly.

"Who are you? Where am I?"

He looked about himself frantically and saw, to his great surprise, that he was atop what appeared to be a colossal, stained-glass pillar, the top of which depicted him on the throne. In many circles around the central image he could see pupils that he had taken on over the years: Xehanort, Braig, Even, Aeleus, Dilan, Catherine, and some others that he didn't recognize. It occurred to him that they may not all have been his pupils. But then what did they have in common?

"Ansem."

Ansem looked wildly about himself for the voice. It was as plain as white text, and as omnidirectional as a thought.

"Do you prioritize your people above all else?"

"Y-yes! Of course."

Beyond his cylindrical vantage point, he could see nothing but a dark smoke that played upon his imagination. A piece of it cleared for him now, and he saw, in the distance, another pillar that was taller than his. A stained-glass platform appeared, like a single stepping stone, on the side of his pillar that faced the other. He approached it cautiously, and set one foot on it. Another step appeared in front of him, and he followed it. The steps took him higher and higher, until finally he was level with the second pillar. He stepped onto it and observed the new image with slight bewilderment.

His daughter was reclining with a locket held at arms length. She gazed longingly at a picture that was in it, but it was held at such an angle that it was not displayed. Ansem frowned. In the circles surrounding the central image were all of the eligible bachelors he could think of and more.

"Is she free to choose whomever she wishes, or must she follow in your steps?"

Ansem covered his mouth with one hand and braced his elbow on the other. It was a tough decision for him to make, of course. But no decision was ever easy.

"Far be it from me to intervene in matters of true love."

"And if she chose someone wrong?"

Ansem shifted his weight.

"Excuse me?"

Pieces of the darkness around him edged their ways onto the pillar and covered several of the outlying pictures. Shadowy figures sprang up in their places. Ansem took several steps back to distance himself from the beings. They were shadow-like representations of people, with golden orbs for eyes.

"Will you defend her, as your daughter?"

The shadows took a step forward in unison and each drew rapiers. Ansem felt a sudden weight in his hand and looked at it quickly. He was now, inexplicably, in possession of a very large key. A key fit for a king, he thought. The shadows readied themselves defensively and Ansem obliged with a lunge. The first shadow fell like a plumb off of a tree and Ansem spun, releasing arcane fire from his outstretched fingers as he did. The other two shadows fell and were replaced instantly by three more. The darkness spread over more bachelors as they fell, and Ansem destroyed them as they rose. Some would get a chance to make a lunge, or swing wildly with sabers, but their motions were brash and lacked the refinement and wisdom that came with experience. Ansem's skill more than made up for his age, and the keyblade was more than able to deliver on power. Ansem twirled the strange weapon above his head on an open palm to squeeze between two more opponents, who stabbed each other thoughtlessly, and brought his steel down hard on the last of them. Ansem heaved a sigh and loosened his grip on the key. He wiped his brow on instinct, but found no sweat. So this was a dream.

"Fools, all of them. I can repel any threat that youth could pose to my own daughter."

Ansem turned and saw that, in fact, there was one more. Two images remained. One, Ansem realized, was his own pupil, Xehanort. The other, a figure cloaked like the elite Palace Guard.

"All of them?" The voice chided him as darkness covered Xehanort's image.

But this time, two figures emerged. Ansem took a step away from them and felt his heel cross over the edge of the pillar. The first figure, which had bleached white hair, a rod of energy in each hand, and a Palace Guard uniform, began circling the pillar to Ansem's left, while the other, which had a bizarre emblem tattooed into its chest, paced to his right. In unison befitting machines they uttered, "Darkness is the hearts true essence."

Ansem was unnerved for a moment, but steeled himself.

"I am willing to defend my daughter at all costs. Even if it comes between you and I Xehanort! I hope for your sake that it does not."

Again in unison they replied, "Then you do not know the true power of darkness."

They both rushed him head on without a single strike and Ansem was pushed over the edge. He looked below himself to see his feet leave the safety of the ground, and then begin their descent to whatever lay below.

"Don't worry," the voice said.

"There are others to take your place."

Another key locked with his as if they were shaking hands, and Ansem was swung around the side of the pillar and up onto solid ground again by someone he couldn't see. He brought himself to the ready as soon as he landed and deflected several angered blows by the Xehanort with the cloak. Ansem lashed out with an ice spell and followed up the hit with a blow from the keyblade that sent him staggering backward. Ansem swiped again and again Xehanort was forced back. He made for a final blow and felt a rush of air pass him as whoever had saved him flew overhead feet-first, knocking Xehanort over the edge. Ansem pivoted on his toes and saw that the other had been disposed of as well. He pivoted back to face the figure that had saved him. It was the last bachelor. A Palace Guard with his hood on.

"Area secure, sir."

Ansem took a step toward him cautiously. The guard's hood cast a shadow that obscured his face, and he made no motion of pleasantry to reveal its identity.

"Who are you?"

The guard did not respond. The dream was not about him. A stepping-stone appeared at the edge of the pillar, opposite to the one Ansem had used to arrive, and the guard watched as Ansem followed it slowly to another, higher pillar.

On this one was a mouse dressed as a king. Ansem looked curiously and long at this image before wandering about to see all of the other images around it. There was a duck. Ansem noted the staff that it carried and the military pose. There was a dog, again in a military stance. Next came another mouse, this one dressed as a queen. It was followed in turn by what appeared to be a meta-picture. It was an image of the interior of a vessel, viewed through its window. Inside the vessel stood the smartly dressed mouse, and in his hand was the vessel. Ansem pondered it before moving to the next image, which was not there. The next three panes were filled by crudely drawn representations of wind, water, and earth. Ansem passed them and looked into the final picture, which was of himself.

"Does this surprise you?"

The voice again. Ansem had nearly forgotten it.

"Am I to understand that these smaller images connect to the larger?"

The voice did not respond verbally. Instead, an ornate door appeared at the center of the pillar.

Ansem approached it and saw that it was transparent. There was one more trial for him.

"The keyblade will choose its wielder. And the righteous king will be sent to aid him."

Ansem heard a footstep behind him and he swiveled to face it. The guard, who had spoken, had just stepped onto the pillar.

"A leader is never wrong, and always knows the correct path. This is why his servants must follow him in any direction. If he chooses the wrong path, his servants follow. Are you wise, O king?"

Ansem scoffed. "Is Ansem the Wise, wise?"

The guard didn't respond.

"I am."

The guard began walking towards him steadily and Ansem saw, out the corner of his eye, that the darkness on the other pillar consumed the final picture. He took a step back through the transparent door cautiously and a sudden fear gripped him as he had not known for many years. The other pillars began to crumble and shake as tendrils of darkness swallowed them whole and cracked their portraits. Ansem felt the weight of the keyblade leave his hand, and the figure of the guard approaching him was growing menacing.

"Pride comes before the fall, your majesty."

"Who are you?" Ansem's usually authoritative voice failed him and became a shriek of fear.

The guard stopped short of walking Ansem over the edge and held both of its hands at the base of its hood. Ansem's resolve trembled horribly in its foundations and he gulped hard.

"W-Who…"

The guard flicked his hood off of his head and Ansem nearly screamed. It was not the face of a being that had ever seen the light of day. IT was a being that could never, ever have existed in even the darkest of the terrible dreams that accompany disease. It was a dark and grotesque face, twisted in painful directions by its own sins and abominable acts. Its fangs dripped innocent blood and its teeth gnashed continually as if none of the belonged to a mouth that could function. And its eyes; Ansem was captivated and defiled by the horror of the windows to this beings soul. It took another step forward, pinning Ansem to the edge of the pillar. Then, in the voice of the damned, it whispered, "I am your legacy. A follower of the prideful king."

It pushed hard with both arms, and again Ansem was falling into the darkness. But this time, there was no one to save him. The final pillar remained whole and uncorrupted, except for a single piece. The image of Ansem the Wise turned dark and faded.

"Don't worry," whispered the voice.

"There are others to take your place."

* * *

"You're not my legacy!"

Johnny didn't startle at Ansem's sudden scream. It was not the first time he'd heard a scream in a dark room.

"You had a dream too, then."

Ansem gasped and turned toward the corner of his room where Johnny was standing.

"Who are you? Show yourself!"

Johnny stepped out of the darkness and Ansem gulped at him.

"What are you doing here?"

"Your daughter had a nightmare, sir. She sent me to tell you."

"Did she… tell you what it was about?"

"No, sir."

"Good."

"Do you need anything, sir?"

"No. No that's quite alright."

Ansem pulled his covers away and scooted off of the bed while Johnny watched idly.

"Take me there."

Johnny nodded and held the door open.

* * *

Xehanort sat up in his cot slowly and flexed his fingers. What a bizarre dream. But every dream has a meaning, no matter how insignificant. And insignificant was not the proper adjective for the lucidity of such a vision as he had just had. Xehanort hopped off of his cot and left his chamber immediately. He had slept in his lab coat, passing out from exhaustion in the usual manner of Ansem's students, and therefore didn't need to bother himself with changing. Changing would have been the last thing on his mind anyway. Xehanort sped down some of the labyrinthine corridors he knew so well. The other students would have to be woken. Maybe not Ansem, but everyone else had to get to work immediately. Xehanort made it to the end of another corridor, rounded a corner and had the wind knocked out of him by what felt like a brick wall. He was dropped flat on his back and held down by a boot. For a moment he thought he would black out, but voices brought him back to reality.

"Sir?"

"Xehanort! What are you doing out here?"

Xehanort's vision swam for a moment and he panted rather than answering.

"Get off of him."

The boot was removed from his chest and he was helped to his feet by one of the Palace Guard.

"Xehanort, what are you doing?"

Xehanort braced himself against his knees.

"Master Ansem. I had a… I left something in the wrong file."

"It can wait. Go back to sleep."

"I wont remember it in the morning, master."

"Sir."

Xehanort shot a look at the guard, who had spoken. "You should know your place. Interrupting a-"

"You should know yours. Sir, Princess Gleie is waiting."

Ansem pointed an authoritative finger at Xehanort. "Back to your chamber. It can wait."

Xemnas bit his tongue and bowed before about-facing and walking in the direction of his chamber. He waited for the kings footsteps to leave earshot and the turned around again and continued running. He would not be told to go to his room.

* * *

Braig sighed and turned the coffee bean in his mouth over a few times while everyone began their five minute check in.

"_North courtyard, secure._"

"_South, secure._"

"_Portcullis, secure."_

Braig chimed in, "Parapet, west, secure."

"_Parapet east, secure."_

"_Main gate. I have motion."_

"_Main gate, please identify."_

"_There's a badger out here, control. It looks like it's up to no good."_

"_Keep us posted, main gate."_

"_Will do, out."_

Braig sniggered and peered around the exterior of the castle. Some trees rustled, a steady plume of smoke ascended from a lodge nearby, and some lights were still on in the city. No one attacked this castle, ever. Not for as several generations anyway. Braig sighed again and paced to the other end of his patrol before chewing a few more times on his coffee bean. A star flickered above him and caught his interest for a moment. He watched it spasm wildly, and then disappear suddenly. He stared at the space it had left in the sky curiously. After another hour of patrols, and several more coffee beans, it was as if it had never been there. Besides, there were plenty of other stars to take its place. Braig sighed again and spit out his coffee bean. He pulled another from his pocket and popped it into his mouth.

"_North courtyard. I have motion. It's airborne._"

Braig turned northward disinterestedly to watch what appeared to be a large star. It grew in size slowly for a great while -which was not ordinary, but still wasn't threatening- until it came close enough to be plainly seen. Braig's jaw went slack and the new coffee bean fell from his mouth. It was a ship; a space ship.


End file.
